


the power of human heartbreak

by revoleotion



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Angst, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Based on the new lessons, Character Study, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slight Violence, author was caffeinated when writing this, unsympathetic Lucifer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:40:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26254288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revoleotion/pseuds/revoleotion
Summary: "Ah,” Lucifer said as he finally looked up into Solomon’s eyes. “I expected you to show up eventually.”“Oh did you,” Solomon said, not once dropping the smile. It started to feel disgusting on his lips, the same smile he used for effortless lies.“Yes. It’s remarkable how many people come to talk to me to defend Asmodeus. One could assume he might want to talk to me in person if he has a problem with me.”
Relationships: Asmodeus/Solomon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 67





	the power of human heartbreak

**Author's Note:**

> probably not very in character but I had to vent a little after the new lessons. This is based on lesson 30 and 31, I don't think there are any major spoilers but you might need to know what contest I am writing about to understand why I am mad at Lucifer.  
> Also, huge warning for (canon, mind you) slut shaming and Asmo's panic attacks that were mentioned in the horny juice plot. (and, as per usual: Thank you, Fiona, for helping me with beta and character analysis! Love you!!)

Years of interacting with humans, demons and angels had proven to Solomon that empathy was a very important tool in understanding other creatures better, and despite not being the most empathetic person himself, he had learnt that sympathy and compassion could go a long way. He had felt empathy for creatures that weren’t human. He had lacked compassion when interacting with humans. He had been around for long enough to understand that it didn’t make him a bad person to feel or not to feel. Solomon liked having things under control but he had learnt that emotions weren’t something he was going to be able to control, the more he distanced himself from them, the less in control he felt. 

After years of figuring himself and others out, he had reached a point where he could put himself into pretty much every other person’s shoes. Simeon had even made comments about how this ability could make him a decent writer. What Simeon didn’t know was that Solomon was, in fact, a writer, possibly even a better writer than the famous angel himself. He didn’t blame demons and angels for liking Simeon’s work. To nonhuman creatures, emotions and feelings could never be that intense, that true and that genuine. 

Solomon had never settled down for only one religion but he had always agreed with the statement that humans were closer to God than angels or demons. Especially when it came to feelings. 

That didn’t mean demons couldn’t get overwhelmed and sad. Not in the slightest. In fact, Solomon’s very bad emotional state was just a mirror of what he had seen of Asmodeus the last few hours. Asmodeus’ emotions might not be godlike and  _ human _ , but they were very real. 

And Solomon didn’t need empathy, sympathy or compassion to be ready to burn the entire devildom to the ground to find whoever made Asmodeus suffer like that. (Not that he had to. He knew who was responsible for it. It had not been hard to find out either.)

Lucifer looked stressed. Then again, he always did. Solomon hadn’t asked the human exchange student about what the most recent issue was because he didn’t want to care for it. He didn’t want to know what was Lucifer’s newest excuse to act distant. The distance wasn’t the problem, Solomon thought when he stepped closer to the Avatar of Pride’s desk and put on his favorite smile, it was the natural arrogance he never even tried to get around. This could be amusing if Solomon was a mere bystander to this situation. 

He wasn’t. Lucifer’s double standards were going to find a way into this conversation if the demon decided to act up. 

“Ah,” Lucifer said as he finally looked up into Solomon’s eyes. “I expected you to show up eventually.”

“Oh did you,” Solomon said, not once dropping the smile. It started to feel disgusting on his lips, the same smile he used for effortless lies. 

“Yes. It’s remarkable how many people come to talk to me to defend Asmodeus. One could assume he might want to talk to me in person if he has a problem with me.”

Solomon decided that no matter how stressed, no matter how heartbroken and no matter how worried Lucifer looked like, he was not going to care. He disposed of his empathy in a heartbeat. He made another step towards the demon and was almost amused when he moved his chair back a couple of centimeters. 

“I explained myself earlier, I do not care for this competition.”

“Asmodeus does,” Solomon said. Casually. Like this was something silly, stressed Lucifer could forget about. 

“I am aware,” Lucifer replied. But he was so careful about it that Solomon was convinced he knew what he was getting at. 

“And I told your fellow exchange student to do something about it,” Lucifer added when Solomon decided to be quiet and wait this one out. “It’s good that you have his back.”

“Oh for  _ fuck’s  _ sake,” Solomon heard his own voice but wasn’t sure he really said it until the displeasure grew into full offense on Lucifer’s face. 

“Excuse me?” he asked. 

Fair. Solomon rarely lost it publicly. Actually, he never lost it. Ever. 

“You should have his back!” he explained. “Don’t just dump it onto a random human he knows for what, half a year? A little hypocritical of you to complain about the workloads from Diavolo and then turn around and do the same to the ones around you.”

Solomon had no pact with Lucifer. He had no control over the anger that radiated from the Avatar of Pride, and yet he wasn’t afraid of it. Ending one of the exchange students was a wonderful way to start a new war that would possibly even attract the angels. Killing a human had the same effect as sinking a submarine full of civilians - it pulled people into a war that had sworn to be neutral at first. Policing everybody despite being the last entity to figure out the free will thing sounded exactly like something angels did, Solomon decided. Perhaps the other human might be interested in any “the celestial realm is actually the United States of America” theories, Lucifer for sure wasn’t. Because Lucifer looked at Solomon like he was going to unleash hell. Quite literally. 

And Solomon smiled. 

“That’s what I thought,” he said. “Pride has gotten the best of you. And here I was thinking you expected the brothers to dial down on their sins.”

At least everybody seemed to expect Asmodeus to do it, he reminded himself. The others too. And yet Lucifer acted like he had somehow lucked out with his sin, like it was a good thing to be arrogant, to think he was better than everyone else, to assume he was going to be the leader. 

“Nothing is keeping you here,” Lucifer said, his voice a forced calmness that Solomon didn’t believe for a second. 

“Apparently I am very much needed,” Solomon retorted. 

“No,” Lucifer said coldly. “You must think of yourself too highly.”

Solomon let that sink in for a bit and decided that yes, he was going to make a scene just for that comment alone. Perhaps, if he waited long enough, Lucifer would realize what he had said and apologize. For now, it didn’t look like it. Instead, he leaned back in his chair and  _ continued _ . 

“While we are at it, I don’t see why Asmodeus shouldn’t be able to compete. I’m not going to do anything to stop him. Maybe the problem isn’t what I’m doing but the way Asmodeus acts.”

Solomon lifted a hand to put over his mouth to hide at least part of the horrified expression that had settled in. Lucifer had to stop talking before he said something he couldn’t recover from. 

“And how does he act?” Solomon asked. He couldn’t mask his words as something innocent anymore, the resentment was so obvious that it felt like poison he could choke on. But he didn’t care for that. His magic could fix poison. He couldn’t fix Asmodeus if he spiraled down towards something not even Solomon could save him from. 

“Don’t be stupid,” Lucifer said. “You know what I mean.”

“And I want to hear it from you,” Solomon said. He had heard it from Asmodeus the night before. Actually, it was what had brought him here. He had been fine with watching for way too long. Asmodeus hadn’t been greedy with the poison in his words. Solomon wasn’t sure who had picked that ability up from the other, for all that he knew it could be a skill time just made them develop. They just grew bitter with time, bitter like the coffee Asmodeus ordered and drank with a little disgusted expression. He didn’t even like the coffee like that. He just drank it because he thought his beauty was the only thing that mattered. He had caffeine to make up for the nightmares he woke up from every single night. 

And it seemed like Lucifer knew nothing about that. Nothing about Asmodeus. 

If Solomon wasn’t so bitter about it, he’d maybe cry. There was no room for sadness in his head, every tiny space was filled up with anger. The kind of anger that just waits for permission to hunt and kill. 

“Predatory,” Lucifer said. 

Solomon’s shoulders sank down a bit. Perhaps he had judged too early, in the darkness of Asmodeus’ room, when the demon had already surrendered to exhaustion again. It had been a mistake to believe that Asmodeus’ hate for himself couldn’t be outdone. Apparently, it could be. 

He looked down on his hand and traced the ring with his fingertips. It was a nice ring, Asmodeus had given it to him because it would always slide off his fragile fingers. 

“Say that again,” Solmon said softly. So softly that it disgusted himself. He didn’t sound like himself. 

“I can’t change the way he acts,” Lucifer said, looking him straight in the eyes. “And I can’t change the way others see him. If he’s being voted second or third or whatever place, it’s not because of me.”

“But because he's a predator,” Solomon said very calmly. 

“I figured that you had already experienced how bad he can get.” 

Lucifer had the audacity to flinch when Solomon’s hand hit his cheek with full force. 

* * *

“There’s something on your hand,” Asmodeus says quietly once he is able to breathe well enough to talk. Solomon has waited the entire time, making sure Asmodeus will feel okay after this attack is over. 

“Oh,” Solomon says, the most casually he allows himself to sound. “Sorry. I’ll get that cleaned up in a second.”

“Blood?” Asmodeus asks, more alert but still exhausted enough from the panic attack to not get overly worried. 

“Not mine. You should see the other guy.” Solomon wipes his hand on his pants, he’s going to wash them anyways, and smiles when Asmodeus cups his face with his cold fingers. 

“Are you going to tell me who the other guy is?” he almost purrs, his voice back to normal. 

Solomon raises an eyebrow. “Let a man have his secrets, love.”

“But you have so many of them,” Asmodeus complains. “Why do you go around fighting people without me? That’s unfair.”

Solomon decides not to answer and lets his fingers run through the demon’s hair. Asmodeus closes his eyes and leans into the touch. 

“I didn’t see Lucifer all day,” he mutters. “He’s probably busy planning more events to make everybody love him. As if he’s not already perfect.”

“If I were allowed to participate, I’d vote for you,” Solomon says quietly. 

“I always took you for the person to vote for Barbatos,” Asmodeus responds. Solomon can’t tell if he’s joking. 

“No, I’m very sure I’d pick you. If I had to choose only one demon to have a pact with, it’s you.”

This isn’t his best pickup-line yet but Asmodeus still makes a sound like a tortured vermin and hides his face in Solomon’s lap. Solomon keeps stroking his hair until he decides to resurface again. 

“Thank Michael in heaven you don’t have to choose. You don’t like that.”

“You don’t like it either,” Solomon says. “That’s alright.”

Asmodeus smiles, just for a moment. Then, sadness takes over again and he sighs, leans closer to Solomon for comfort and takes a few shaky breaths. 

“I’m sorry. Sometimes I just have to be myself for a bit.”

“That’s also very alright,” Solomon whispers. 

He lets Asmodeus stay curled up in his lap and weep as long as he wants to. 


End file.
